


No Witness

by LawrenceKinden



Series: Dark Lady Stories [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Edgy, Gen, Girl - Freeform, Non-Consensual Spanking, Spanking, UNFAIR, cruel - Freeform, darklady
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-08 00:29:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5476268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LawrenceKinden/pseuds/LawrenceKinden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Edgy] [Story Contains Spanking]</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Witness

I sat on my bed in my room with my headphones on and my eyes closed. I didn’t need my eyes open to see the bookshelves overflowing, or the clothes carpeting the floor or the movie posters papering the walls. I didn’t need my ears to hear the sounds of the party downstairs, of the voices loud with drink and getting louder.

I tried to drown it all out, the voices, the revelry, the images, all of it. I tried to focus on the strains of music pounding in my ears, the voice of brilliance echoing my turmoil, my weakness. I focused entirely inward. I focused on my slow, measured breathing; the rhythm of my heart; the feel of the soft, cotton nightie; the scent of books; and, of course, the music

I’m not sure why, I opened my eyes. I couldn’t have heard the click as the door opened, there was no light from the hall to spill into the room…

Why did I open my eyes?

It doesn’t matter.

I opened my eyes and lowered my headphones. From the light of my tiny lamp, I saw a shape confused by shadows. I blinked a couple of times and the shape coalesced into a woman.

“Mother?” the word was out before I could stop it.

The shadowy figure did not respond. Perhaps she was as surprised by the blurted word as I was. Either way, she wasn’t my mother.

The silence stretched for a few minutes, but I couldn’t bear to let it go on. I was getting nervous.

“Who are you?” Again, the words were automatic.

“I heard what your mother said downstairs.” Her voice was deep and husky. She hadn’t answered my question.

I shivered. “Everyone heard.”

The woman chuckled. “She said she was going to spank your butt.”

“Get out of here,” I demanded.

“She said she’d beat you with your own belt.”

“What do you want?” My heart was thudding loudly in my throat.

“She’s said it before. I’ve heard her at other parties. She doesn’t want you showing your face at her parties.”

“What of it?” I snapped.

“Does she ever actually do it?”

I shrugged. “No.”

“I thought not.”

Neither of us spoke for a while. I sat in my bed, feeling vulnerable and nervous, but defiant and belligerent at the same time. This large, shadowy woman had no right to come into my room and demand answers of me.

“Well?” I broke the silence again. “Are you happy now? My mother never spanks me. She just threatens to do it because she doesn’t want me around when she’s having a party.”

The figure shifted. “No, I’m not happy.”

I crossed my arms, the blankets covering me shifted. “You better leave now. If you don’t, I’ll scream.”

She chuckled. “No one will hear you, princess.”

I swallowed hard and fear filled me. I knew that she was right. I knew that the noise downstairs, the music, the conversation of nearly a hundred people, would drown out the sounds of one screaming little girl two stories away.

She took another step forward and I tensed.

She paused.

There was a moment frozen in time, neither of us moved. Then…

I tried to scramble to my feet while she lunged forward and grabbed at me. She only managed to grab my blanket and I got my feet beneath me. I leapt from the bed and tumbled to a crouch on the floor. The woman threw the blanket aside and moved to bar my way to the door. I tried to dodge past, but she was too big and too fast. She caught me by an arm. I swung my fist, but she caught that arm easily as well. I kicked her, but it did no good.

The woman pinned my wrists at the front of my waist with one massive hand. I squirmed and screamed and cried, but I could not escape. I kicked backwards as hard as I could but missed more often than hit. She ignored the blows of my tiny feet. She was like a bear hugging its prey.

She pushed me up against the bed and forced me to bend at the waist. She pulled my hands around behind my back, wrenching my shoulders in the process, and held my wrists above me. Then her other rough hand grabbed a fistful of the nightie I wore. It was nothing but thin cotton. With a mighty tug, she ripped it from my body.

I gasped.

I had never been forced into such a vulnerable position before.

Naked and pinned, I could only squirm and plead for mercy, which I did.

“No, no, no, no…” I blubbered. “No, please, I’m so sorry… don’t please…”

I felt her raise her huge hand and felt her body tense as she reversed the motion and brought her hand swinging down. She struck the whole of my small, round bottom with one large hand and I howled in pain. That one blow lit my whole body afire. I flailed my legs and pulled at my seized wrists but I could not escape.

The next blow landed just above my bottom, right in the small of my back. I arched my back, which put pressure on my already aching shoulders. She pulled up on my wrists even more, which made my back straighten out then pushed down, forcing me into the soft bed.

She struck each of my bottom cheeks then, in quick succession, first the right, then the left. I yelped and kicked. One of my feet must have made an impression because she let go of my wrists.

“Feisty little brat…” she muttered

I scrambled away from her, up onto my bed. I spun around, putting my back against the wall. The woman stood at the foot of my bed. My breaths came in short gasps. I blinked the tears from my eyes.

I could see her better now. She was tall, tall as a man, with wide hips and large hands. She was dressed in dark skirt and a pale blouse, color was hard to determine in the dim room. I still couldn’t make out her face, but I noted that her hair was pulled back into a severe knot.

“Stay away from me!” I sobbed raggedly at her.

She smiled. “Oh no, we’re not done yet, princess.”

“Stop calling me that.”

She put her hands on the bed, preparing to come after me. I kicked a pillow at her and when she raised her hand to bat it aside, I made a break for it. I sprinted past the woman and was at the door before she could turn around. I grabbed at the handle, but my hands fumbled. Chancing a glance over my shoulder, I saw the large woman coming towards me. Adrenaline flooded my system. I wrenched the handle and the door came open.

I took my first step toward freedom but strong hands wrapped around my waist.

“No!” I wailed.

The woman lifted me from my feet and tossed me back into my room. I landed on my tummy with an umph on the carpeted floor. Before I could get to my feet, the woman had grabbed my ankles and lifted me off the floor. I put my hands palm down to support my weight. The woman wrapped an arm around my lower legs to hold me up. A high-pitch whine escaped my throat as I tensed for what I knew would come next.

She struck my lower thighs first. Several times, very fast, the spanks stung me from knees to bottom. She hit me five times on each thigh, alternating.

I immediately dissolved back into sobbing.

My arms gave out and folded and the woman’s hold on me slipped. My head struck the floor sending stars dancing before my eyes. I struggled sit and shook my head, trying to clear it. When I could see again, the woman stood over me, something dangling from her fist.

“Is this your belt?” she asked, but I don’t think she wanted a response.

A whimper escaped my throat.

“She said she’d beat you with your own belt.” The woman was talking to herself.

I got shakily to my feet and made for the door. It was nothing but a token effort. I couldn’t make myself run, I hurt too much.

The woman flicked the belt at me. The tip of that length of leather caught me just under my right shoulder blade. I screamed and staggered. I may have passed out.

When I was again aware of my surroundings, I lay face down on my bed.

She must have put me there.

“Now for the belt,” she whispered gently in my ear.

I could do nothing to stop it. My energy was drained. The tears just leaked from my eyes and tracked down my face.

The first blow landed across my shoulders. It burned. I gasped and groaned and squirmed, but that was all I could manage. The next blow struck diagonally, from my right shoulder to left hip. The next crossed the previous, at my lower back, just above my bottom. The next was across the middle of my back. The next just above that. The next I don’t remember.

When I woke up the next morning I was lying on the floor next to my bed, curled in a tight ball. Light flooded through the windows, making me wince. My head throbbed, my throat was sore, and my muscles ached.

Gingerly, I stretched myself out, bit by bit until I was laying full length on my back. I moved to sit up, but the pounding in my head increased and made me feel nauseous. I lay back down and took deep breaths to calm my head and stomach.

Finally, after several minutes, I was able to try again and this time made it. I blinked back tears and took stock of my room. The covers and sheets of my bed were in disarray. My pillows were scattered across the room. My nightie lay in scattered pieces. My belt lay curled on the floor like a resting serpent.

Ignoring the pain as best I could, I got to my feet and set about straightening up the room. I couldn’t say why that became my priority, but I did it. When my bed was made, the torn clothes thrown away and the belt returned to my closet, I slipped on my thick purple bathrobe and made my way to the bathroom.

Once there, I examined myself in the mirror. There were bruises from my shoulders to my knees, black and blue and yellow. The belt marks were clearly different from where she’d hit me with her hand. I took a deep shuddering breath, trying to keep from crying again.

I took a long, hot shower.

Afterward, when I had dried off and brushed my hair and brushed my teeth and donned my thick robe, I was feeling better. The horror of the night before was beginning to fade as I forced it from the fore of my thoughts.

Then my mother burst into the bathroom. She looked horrible.

I wondered what she was doing in this bathroom because her bedroom had its own private bathroom. Perhaps she had made a mess of it. Perhaps he had forgotten it was there.

She glared at me. “If you used up all the hot water, I’m going to spank your butt.”

I left without a reply.


End file.
